Then came the day when Toby returned to Sydney. I shall never forget waiting on the dock for the ship to come in, and that moment when he came down the gangway and embraced me, holding me as though he would never let me go.

Later he told me that Dr. Marline had died and he was very sad about it. I guessed it upset him to talk of it, so I did not ask all the questions I wanted to.

He did tell me that Adeline and Estella were still with Aunt Florence and would stay with her. He did not know what had happened to Miss Carson.

It would be best for me to stay in Australia, he said, for there he could be sure of seeing me more often than if I were anywhere else; and Elsie and I had become such good friends.

Everything sounded better when Toby spoke of it. What a piece of luck that the Formans were not too far away! Genie and I had been such good friends during the voyage out. Everything was turning out well.

I did go for a short voyage with him to New Guinea from Sydney and then back again. It lasted only three weeks, but there was hope of another; and during those years I only went once more with him, because it had to fit in with my school holidays.

School absorbed me and so the years passed.

And now we were grown up. We felt very mature and excited about that.

Schooldays were over. Gertie and I were adults.

That homecoming was different from all the others. There was a certain amount of ceremony about it. The coach brought us back with several other girls who lived in the Sydney area, and Gertie was dropped at Yomaloo. There were the usual assurances between us that we should be meeting soon. I should be going to stay at the Forman property as I always had done, and she would be coming to Sydney.

Elsie was waiting for my arrival.

“My word!” she cried, looking sentimental.

“You’re quite the young lady now.”

And there, in the porch, were Mabel, Adelaide and Jane, with Agio standing by.

I was taken into the house and Mabel announced that there was schnapper for lunch, which was my special favourite, and she didn’t want it getting cold while a lot of chatter went on. There was time enough for that afterwards.

During the meal, as I had always done, I told them what had been happening during the last term at school, and they recounted how life had gone on there.

Later, when I talked to Elsie alone, she said: “I thought I’d be giving a party … say at Christmas … for you and perhaps Gertie. We’d turn the sitting-room into a sort of ballroom. It would be quite big with the chairs and all the clutter taken out. I’d get some fiddlers in. It would be a sort of coming out party for you and Gertie … rather like that nonsense they do at home though without all that silly business of wearing feathers and curtseying to the Queen. We’d want some young men around. Joe’s not so young, but there’s his nephew and the McGill boys are all right. Then there are the Barnums and the Culvers … and, of course James Forman. I reckon I could pull in quite a number.”

I was silent for a moment, and she went on: “Well, you’re getting on, you know. It’s time you saw a bit of life. You want to “come out” , as they say. That’s what you’d be doing if you were at home. “

My thoughts went fleetingly to Estella and Adeline. Estella would be nineteen now, Adeline much older. Henry would be twenty-one. What were they doing now? It was only occasionally that I thought of them now.

How strange it was that people who had once been so much a part of one’s life could become like shadowy figures in a dream.

Elsie was saying: “I reckon you’ll want a rather special dress.

Something in red or blue or that mauve shade you like so much . something bright. We’ll give ourselves plenty of time . choose the material and get old Sally Cadell to make it. She’s always looking for work. I suppose in a week or so you’ll be wanting to go over to the Formans. When you come back we’ll start setting the party in motion.

It’ll take a bit of planning. “

She paused and lowered her eyes; then, after a few seconds, she raised them and smiled at me.

“I kept the best bit of news till now, because I thought that, if you heard it, you wouldn’t give your mind to anything else. To be’s due in December. Christmas Eve, in fact.”

I stared at her and we were in each other’s arms.

“Wouldn’t you call that good news, eh? It’s going to be a special Christmas for us, I can tell you.”

“It’s wonderful!” I cried.

“Quite wonderful.”

We were speechless after that, eyes shining, contemplating what lay in store for us. How good Elsie was to me! Another fleeting memory of Commonwood came. How different it was here where Elsie and Toby did everything to make life good for me. I was overcome with emotion.

I would be free now. If it were possible to take a trip with him, there would be no school to prevent it. This was perfect bliss.

We could talk of little else after that, but the good for tune which would bring Toby to Sydney at such a time.

But any time, of course, would be wonderful. We chattered excitedly.

The following day I went to the stables and made sure my particular mount. Starlight, was well. He showed his appreciation of my return.

Hal said he had missed me, but he knew I had to go away to school and didn’t hold it against me that I’d deserted him all that time.

Starlight confirmed this by nuzzling against me.

“He’s telling you how pleased he is you’re back,” went on Hal.

“I reckon he knows schooldays are over and you’re back for good now. “

Elsie and I sat in our favourite spot in the garden and we talked over trifles, although our minds were perpetually on Toby’s return. I told her how Sarah Minster had only just beaten me at the horse-jumping competition, how I’d come top in English and just barely scraped through in maths. She told me how one of the horses had gone lame when she was eight miles from home, and how she’d spent the night at the Jennings property.

Then she said suddenly: “I reckon you’ll settle here, Carmel. You’ll be one of us. Do you ever think of going home?”

Again there came those flashes of memory. Dr. Marline in the schoolroom, Adeline crying in her mother’s bedroom, Miss Carson coming out of the room and fainting.

I said: “Gertie talks of it often. She has an Aunt Beatrice in London.

She says she’s going home one day. “

“It’s always home to some of them,” said Elsie.

“They can’t seem to forget it. Others don’t want to see the place again.”

“I expect it depends on what happened to you there.”

She looked a little perplexed.

“You’ve been happy here, haven’t you?”

“Wonderfully happy. You’re here … and Toby, sometimes.”

She nodded.

“Perhaps you’ll marry and settle here.”

“Marry? Marry whom?”

“That’s in the lap of the gods, as they say. There are one or two young men round about. Some very nice ones. Joe’s nephew, William.

He’s a bit bashful, but since he’s been out here with Joe, he’s coming out of his shell a bit. Joe says he’s a great help on the property, and he’ll have the money to set up a place of his own when he’s learned a bit more. Well, he’s here on the spot. We shall see a lot of him. He’ll be coming over with Joe. “

“But you don’t marry people just because they are ” on the spot”!”

“I reckon that comes into it. How are you going to meet them if they’re not? And I think James Forman likes you.”

“James Forman! You’re forgetting all that trouble in Suez when he left us there. I don’t think he’s ever got over that.”

“He was only a boy. You’re not going to hold that against him.”

“No. But I think he holds it against himself. He’s always a bit shamefaced with me.”

She smiled.

“Poor lad. He’d like you to see him as a sort of hero … dashing up and getting you to the ship and climbing by that rope-ladder.”

“But that was Dr. Emmerson.”

“He’s a nice boy, James. I like him and what’s more, I think he likes you.”

After that, I began to think more often of James Forman.

We were all stretched out on the grass, our horses tethered nearby. We had come to the stream known as Wanda’s Creek which was on the edge of the Yomaloo property. We had been riding out to the Jensens who were the Formans’ nearest neighbours.

It was an unwritten law that neighbours came to the aid of each other when it was needed; and Jack Jensen had hurt his leg while he was fixing some fencing and, as soon as the news had reached Yomaloo, James had immediately set out to see if any help was needed.

Gertie and I accompanied him in case we could help in the house, as there was only one daughter, Mildred, her mother and no servant.

James had fixed the fence and we were on our way back, having had a meal with the Jensens. We had ridden some way but there were still a few miles to go, and we decided to rest and take a little refreshment.

So there we were. James had taken from his saddle-bag a bottle of Mrs. Forman’s homemade wine and was pouring it into beakers and handing them round. He always carried the wine with him, for often during his journeys he felt in need of refreshment and places for finding it were few and far between. It was on occasions like this that one realized the vastness of this sparsely populated land.

It was pleasant to rest in the warm October sunshine which would be very hot in a few weeks’ time. We lay there, talking desultorily.

Gertie was saying she was wondering what she would do, now that she had left school.